If Anyone Asks
by VoldemortIsGoingDown
Summary: "There are times where Nymphadora Tonks has to force herself to get out of bed..." Between Sirius' death, heartache over a certain werewolf, a new Patronus, and trouble Metamorphosing, is there anything  or anyone  that can get Tonks feeling good again?
1. A Million Pieces

_**Author's Note:**__ I got this idea into my head a couple of days ago and I could not let it go. I had to start writing it. It's going to get fairly dark, I think, but I hope you stick with it. This is an attempt to improve my writing, as well as an experiment in present tense and longer chapters, and I hope you enjoy it._

_I will try to update this at least once a week, but I won't update until I've updated my two other fics, _Brick by Boring Brick_ and _Misguided Ghosts_, because I started those first._

_**Disclaimer:**__ While I desperately wish I was J.K.R., the fact that I am writing fan fiction proves that I am, sadly, not her._

There are times where Nymphadora Tonks has to force herself to get out of bed, and this is one of them.

It's hard, she decides, to find the passion for life that she had once harbored even in the midst of this goddamn awful war.

She supposes it had been different when her mentor, Mad-Eye, had owled her about a year ago, inquiring as to whether she believed Dumbledore and Harry's story about the return of Voldemort. After replying yes, he had brought her into the Order of the Phoenix, and while it was a daunting role, she had been quite enthusiastic.

Now, though, she wonders what the hell she has gotten herself into.

Sirius' death has been hard on her. She hadn't been particularly close to him, she muses, but he had been unwaveringly kind and supportive throughout her constant pursuit of and heartbreak over his best friend. When Remus had rejected her, Sirius had been the one to pick up the pieces- and insist that she keep trying.

When she had woken up in Saint Mungo's three days after the fiasco at the Department of Mysteries, she had discovered Remus sitting by her bed, head in hands. He had smiled at her tiredly and tried to deflect her questions, but she was unwavering in her thirst for the knowledge of what had taken place after she fell. He had grudgingly obliged, detailing Dumbledore's arrival, Harry's pursuit of Bellatrix, and the appearance of Voldemort. He hesitated when she pressed him about casualties, and she knew with absolute certainty that she would not like the answer.

"Sirius is dead."

She had cried for a week.

She knows it is her fault that he died. She had been dueling Bellatrix, and if Tonks had just finished her aunt off, or at least put her out of the fight, Bellatrix could not have killed Sirius.

She still feels the dull ache in her stomach at the thought of him, and the only thing that gets her up that morning is the thought of seeing Remus. She, Remus, Mad-Eye, and the Weasleys were meant to greet Harry and the others at King's Cross Station that afternoon, and she and Remus are going out for lunch at the Leaky Cauldron afterwards.

Mechanically, she goes through the motions of getting dressed. She chooses her Weird Sisters tee, because it is comfortable and she doesn't feel up to trying to look good today. She digs through her closet until she finds her softest pair of jeans, as she knows that she can't go to King's Cross in pajama pants. The jeans are so worn out that they are covered in patches, but Tonks doesn't care. They are her most comfortable pair, and that's what she needs right now- comfort.

She lives with her parents since the Order has vacated Grimmauld Place, but she doesn't mind. In fact, she thinks that this worked out perfectly. She doubts that she would be able to return to Grimmauld Place without Sirius- Remus or no Remus. She smiles forcedly at her mum as she passes through the kitchen on her way to the door, declining the food that is offered by her father. She knows they are concerned by her lack of appetite. She just cannot bring herself to eat anything.

Her hair is still pink today, because she is cheered slightly due to getting out of the house. She also knows pink hair will drive Harry's aunt bonkers, and who wouldn't want to annoy the hell out of that woman? Tonks certainly does.

She Apparates to the drive of the Burrow, where they are all meeting before going to King's Cross. She raps gently on the front door, which is opened by one of the twins.

"Hey, Tonks," Fred greets, grinning.

"Wotcher," she says, walking past him into the kitchen.

Everyone else is already there: Mad-Eye stands in a corner, drinking his from his hip-flask and his magical eye revolving slowly; Molly bustles about the kitchen with lunch dishes; Fred and George demonstrate a Muggle magic trick from their shop for Arthur; Remus sits in a chair at the table, a glass of pumpkin juice in his hand. Tonks leans against the wall, allowing her tired eyelids to close as she tunes out the chatter of the others. A hand touches her shoulder and she jumps, her eyes flying open, her hand automatically going to her wand. Remus withdraws his hand from her shoulder and she smiles apologetically at him.

"Are you alright?" he questions, his dark eyes concerned. She shrugs. "Nymphadora, you know it's not-"

"We should get going, Molly," she calls, cutting across him. She has no wish to discuss Sirius with Remus.

Remus frowns at her as they board the Knight Bus, but Tonks ignores him and curls up in a chair against the wall. He takes the seat next to her, turning to look at her as the bus moves forward with a BANG.

"Nymphadora-"

"_Don't_ call me that, Remus."

He sighs. "I really think you're being too hard on yourself. Sirius wouldn't want you to blame yourself."

She glares at him, fighting back tears. "Well, seeing as he isn't here, I can do whatever I damn well please." She turns away from him, resting her head against the wall.

"Nymphadora, I…"

"Can we please not talk about this, Remus?" she asks, her voice breaking slightly. She feels him put a comforting arm around her shoulders, and, in spite of herself, leans into it.

He stays by her side as they walk into King's Cross, trailing slightly behind the others. When they reach the barrier between platforms nine and ten, Remus leans in and opens his mouth to speak. She holds up her hand to silence him.

"Remus, please, just let it go, alright? I want to be able to act happy when Harry gets here. He's got to be hurting more than any of the rest of us."

Remus nods and smiles sadly at her, brushing his hand against her cheek once before turning his attention a small group of distinctly unhappy people standing a slight distance away.

"That's them, right, Arthur?" Remus comments quietly, nodding subtly in their direction. Arthur cocks his head to the side, scrutinizing them.

"I think so," he says, staring at them with evident curiosity. Molly follows his gaze and purses her lips, her expression cold. "Oh, hello!" Arthur exclaims with delight, spotting the Grangers. "How are you?"

Suddenly, Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny appear in front of the barrier, lugging their trunks and their pets' cages. Tonks hastily arranges her features into a more pleasant expression as Harry's face registers his shock.

"Ron, Ginny!" Molly cries, hugging her youngest children. "Oh, and Harry dear- how are you?" She pulls him into a hug too.

"Fine," Harry says, though his face betrays him.

"What are they supposed to be?" Ron asks, pointing at Fred and George's new jackets.

"Finest dragon skin, little bro," says Fred proudly. "Business is booming and we thought we'd treat ourselves."

Molly finally releases Harry and turns to Hermione. Harry makes his way over to Remus, Tonks, and Mad-Eye.

"Hello, Harry," Remus says, smiling at him.

"Hi," says Harry, still looking dumb-founded. "I didn't expect… what are you all doing here?"

"Well," explains Remus with a hint of a smirk, "we thought we might have a little chat with your aunt and uncle before letting them take you home."

"I dunno if that's a good idea," says Harry.

Tonks rolls her eyes exasperatedly. As if what Harry thinks about it actually matters. They had discussed this a week ago, and their minds were made up.

"Oh, I think it is," Moody insists. "That'll be them, will it, Potter?"

Tonks stifles as laugh as she, Remus, and Harry look back at the Dursleys; they looked horrified at Harry's present company.

"Ah, Harry!" Arthur calls, turning away from the Grangers. "Well- shall we do it, then?"

"Yeah, I reckon so, Arthur." Mad-Eye and Arthur lead the way across the station to the Dursleys. Hermione, having disentangled herself from her mother, follows.

"Good afternoon," Arthur says to Mr. Dursley. "You might remember me, my name's Arthur Weasley."

Dursley turns bright red and glares, not saying anything. His wife has taken a step back, surreptitiously looking around as though to ensure no one would see her in such company. Their son, whose name Tonks cannot remember, attempts to hide behind his parents; he is so large that he fails miserably.

"We thought we'd just have a few words with you about Harry," Arthur continues, still pleasant.

"Yeah," growls Mad-Eye. "About how he's treated when he's at your place."

Dursley seems to swell with indignation. Tonks likes him less and less the more time she spends in his company.

"I am not aware that it is any of your business what goes on in my house-" Dursley begins, his tone combative.

"I expect what you're not aware of would fill several books, Dursley," Mad-Eye cuts him off.

"Anyway, that's not the point," Tonks snaps, feeling fed up with these people. Mrs. Dursley closes her eyes rather than look at the pink haired witch, and Tonks smirks in satisfaction. "The point is, if we find out you've been horrible to Harry-"

"-and make no mistake, we'll hear about it," Remus finishes for her.

"Yes, even if you won't let Harry use the fellytone-"

"Telephone," Hermione corrects Arthur.

"Yeah, if we get any hint that Potter's been mistreated in any way, you'll have us to answer to," Mad-Eye growls threateningly.

Dursley raises himself up to his full height, glaring into Mad-Eye's face. "Are you threatening me, sir?"

Tonks glances around; Dursley has gotten so loud that Muggles are beginning to stare.

"Yes, I am," Mad-Eye answers happily.

"And do I look like the kind of man who can be intimidated?" Dursley asks dangerously.

"Well…" Mad-Eye says thoughtfully, and Tonks once again has to stifle a laugh as he pushes back his bowler hat to show his magical eye and Dursley leaps backwards, "Yes, I'd have to say you do, Dursley. So, Potter… give us a shout if you need us. If we don't hear from you for three days in a row, we'll send someone along…."

Mrs. Dursley whimpers, but they ignore her.

The group says their farewells and departs in their separate directions.

Remus turns to Tonks. "Shall we?" She nods and follows him out of the station and onto the street that will take them to the Leaky Cauldron. They walk in silence, neither of them wanting to broach either of the inevitable topics. Remus holds the pub door open for her and she leads the way inside, choosing a small table in a secluded corner. It is nearly empty, and Tom, the barman, looks extremely pleased to have customers. He hurries over to them as Remus takes the seat next to Tonks.

"What'll it be?" He asks eagerly.

"A firewhiskey, please," Tonks says, not looking at the menu.

Remus frowns at her over his menu. "Aren't you going to eat?" She shakes her head and he sighs. "A Butterbeer and Shepard's Pie, please," he says, handing their menus to Tom, who scurries away. "Nymphadora, you should eat something."

"Not hungry."

"Nymphadora…"

"For the last time, Remus, _don't_ call me that!" She snaps, crossing her arms angrily. There is a heavy silence.

"Sorry," Remus mutters.

Tonks shakes her head. "I shouldn't have snapped."

"Don't worry about it."

Another tense silence falls, in which Tom brings their drinks. Tonks takes a large gulp of firewhiskey, feeling the familiar warmth spread through her body. She feels suddenly less guarded and finds that she _needs_ to talk about Sirius. Sirius… She downs the rest of her firewhiskey while Remus looks on, concerned.

"Er… Nymph- Tonks?"

And then she is crying, tears streaming down her face as she releases the pent up sadness and guilt that she has let build up. Remus stares at her, alarmed.

"It's my fault, R-Remus… all m-my fault… if I wasn't s-s-so _incompetent_ I c-could have finished h-her off and then S-S-Sirius would still be here…"

Remus wraps his arms around her, tucking her head into his shoulder and rubbing her back. "Nymphadora, it is _not_ your fault. Bellatrix is an extremely skilled witch and anyone would have a tough time with her. She's second only to Voldemort based on skill-level and I'm glad that she didn't kill you too. I don't know what I'd do if she had." His voice grows very quiet and he trails off, still rubbing her back in small circles. She continues to cry, though her sobs are quieter now, and eventually they taper off. She gulps, sniffles, and leans her head back to look at him.

"Thanks," she says, her eyes still wet.

"You're welcome."

"Did you really mean it?"

"Mean what?"

"That you don't know what you'd do if I had died," she whispers, so softly he can barely hear her.

"Yes," he says, even more quietly.

They gaze at each other for a moment, and Remus gently brushes away a stray tear with the pad of his thumb. His fingers linger on the side of her face, and she hesitantly presses her lips to his. He kisses her back, his large hands cupping her heart-shaped face, and she sighs happily. Remus gives her hope for the world, and for one moment, she feels safe with him in that little corner of the Leaky Cauldron…

Until he pulls away abruptly, his brown eyes widened with horror.

"What?" She asks urgently. "What is it?"

"I- We-" Remus shakes his head, looking upset. "I'm sorry, Nymphadora, but… we can't do this."

"Why not?" She demands, feeling panicky.

_This cannot be happening, _she thinks desperately._ Please, Merlin, let this be a nightmare._

He stands up, gazing down at her sadly. "I'm too old, too poor, and too dangerous."

"Bullshit!" She snaps, standing up too. "You give me the same excuse every time, Remus, but it is complete and utter bullshit!"

He looks away and shakes his head again. He gathers his cloak in his arms, digs in his pocket, and tosses a few Galleons on the table.

"Remus…" she steps closer to him, pleading. "Remus, please, don't do this."

"I'm sorry, Nymphadora." He strides out the door, and she stares after him, her heart breaking into a million pieces.

She sinks slowly back into her chair, signaling for Tom to bring her another firewhiskey. She buries her face in her hands and allows a few tears escape.

It is a mark of her sorrow that she does not notice her hair slowly fading to a dark, mousy brown.

_**Author's Note: **__And there you are. I'm pretty pleased with it, and I hope you are too. Almost all of the dialogue at King's Cross is taken from the American hard-cover edition of Order of the Phoenix, chapter 38: The Second War Begins. Please, review, and tell me what you think!_


	2. Of MetamorFailures

_**Author's Note: **__Thanks for the reviews! I really appreciate them. I hope you like this chapter._

"Dora, dear, have some breakfast."

"No, Mum," Tonks sighs wearily as she trudges back up the stairs with a basket of laundry, oblivious to the concerned stares of her parents. She nudges her bedroom door open with her foot and dumps the clothes unceremoniously onto her bed. Digging through the pile, she manages to find her grey Auror's robes, stretchy black work pants, and white collared shirt. Her slim fingers fasten the buttons on her blouse mechanically, tucking the hem into the dark material of her pants. She slips into her robes, fiddling with the clasp and pinning her badge onto the left shoulder. Snatching up her comb, she attacks her short, spiky hair until most of the knots are gone. She slips her feet into her combat boots, grabs her wand, and hurries down the stairs for her coffee. She grabs her yellow mug off the counter with a slight frown; it is far too cheerful for her present mood.

"Dora…"

"Dad, I've already told Mum; I'm not hungry," she rolls her eyes, rapping the mug smartly with her wand. It instantly floats to the sink and begins filling itself with water.

"No, that's not it," Ted replies from his chair at the table, looking slightly uncomfortable and rather worried. "We were only wondering why your hair isn't pink today."

Tonks slowly turns around to stare at her father. "What?"

"Your hair," Andromeda says, reentering the room with the family cat, Beelzebub, at her heels. "It's its natural color."

"_What?_" Tonks hurries to the loo, nearly tripping over a hissing Beelzebub in her haste. Staring into the mirror at her reflection, she is startled to find that her parents are right. Her normally hot pink locks have faded into their natural mousy brown.

_That's strange_, she thinks, examining her hair. _This has never happened before. _

Shrugging, she screws up her face and concentrates on the image of her signature, spiky pink hairstyle. After a moment, she opens her eyes.

"Bloody hell!" She shrieks, a sense of panic beginning to rise in her throat. Her hair has remained resolutely brown.

She scrunches her face again, praying to the Wizard God that it was just a fluke, and that she's over tired, and it will work this time. She nearly screams with frustration when she opens her eyes to find that there has been no change. Angry tears prickle at the corner of her eyes as she repeats the process over and over until, finally, she has no choice but to give up.

Unfortunately, the spiky style no longer fits with the dull shade that she is now stuck with. Taking a deep breath to calm herself, Tonks shuts her eyes and pictures a longer hairstyle she has seen in a Muggle magazine. She examines her new, chin length hair in the mirror. It doesn't look too bad, she thinks. If she was into those Muggle fashion trends, she might actually consider keeping it. Alas, she is not, and decides it will have to do.

Stalking out of the lavatory, she grabs her bag off the kitchen floor and Apparates into the Atrium of the Ministry without saying goodbye. She knows her mother will give her grief about it (and her new hair) upon her arrival at home, but Tonks doesn't care. She wants to make it through the day first.

She manages to squeeze into a lift before the doors close, and she is jostled into a corner by a tall, fit wizard whose face is concealed by this morning's _Prophet_. She glares up at him, rubbing the side of her head where it collided painfully with the metal grate.

"Inconsiderate berks," she mutters angrily. He looks round at her, surprised.

"Oh, hello there, Tonks," he says, pushing his hair out of his eyes.

"Hi, Paul," she replies. Paul Savage is a fellow Auror, two years her senior. The female employees of the Ministry fawn over him because of his looks, but Tonks likes him because of his personality. Dedicated, hard-working, kind, and funny, Paul is a good friend to her, and her favorite person (besides Kingsley) to be paired with on missions.

"What happened to your hair? Get tired of the color?" Paul asks, grinning.

"No," she says shortly, not wanting to get into it. Confused at her behavior, Paul frowns at her.

"What's got your wand in a knot?"

"Nothing," she snaps.

"But-"

"Level Two- Department of Magical Law Enforcement, including Auror Headquarters."

Tonks sweeps out of the lift first and hurries down the corridor, attempting to put as much distance between her and Paul as possible. Unfortunately, his legs being so much longer than hers, he catches up to her easily.

"Tonks, wait," he says, as they reach the double ebony doors leading into the Department. "I didn't mean to upset you. It's just unlike you to be so unhappy."

"I appreciate your concern, Paul," she says testily, shaking his hand off of her shoulder as she turned to face him. "However, I'm fine, and I need to get to work."

"If you say so." He sighs wearily and catches her arm as she turns to enter the Department. "If you need anything, you know where to find me, right?"

She nods once and walks swiftly towards her desk, where she is greeted by a large stack of paperwork. Rifling through it, she discovers that it all has to do with the breach and battle in the Department of Mysteries. Fighting back the tears that prickle in the corners of her eyes, she tangles her fingers in her hair and picks up her quill.

_**Author's Note:** I'd love it if you'd review. Thanks :)_


	3. Pretend You're Okay

_**Author's Note:** Sorry it's taken me so long to update. I've had so much going on with school and the fall play and driver's ed, I just didn't have time. Thank you to sapphiretwin369, who was kind enough to review the last chapter. I really hope you all are enjoying this so far, because it's my pet project and I'm loving writing it. I'm going to try to write longer chapters, as I always like those more._

"Thanks, Molly," Tonks murmurs as the older woman holds the door of the Burrow open for her. She moves into the kitchen, sidling against the wall so as to avoid the other Order members. Upon reaching the back of the room, she scans the crowd for an empty seat. Due to arriving late, she is the last one there besides Dumbledore, and her eyes light on the only available space besides standing- situated next to Remus.

_Just my luck,_ Tonks thinks ruefully. She considers standing for a moment, but after guarding Harry all day on Privet Drive, and thanks to the lateness of the hour, she is exhausted. She slowly sinks into the rickety wooden chair, avoiding Remus' eyes. Instead, she fixates her gaze on Mad-Eye's hip flask, tracing every little detail in her mind.

There are only a few centimeters between her thigh and Remus' hand, which is resting lightly on his leg. She can feel the heat radiating from his body, longs to reach out and touch him, kiss him, tell him how she's missed him. She clenches her fists around the sleeves of her jumper, breathing through her mouth so that the smell that is Remus and only Remus- wood tones with a hint of chocolate- cannot penetrate her brain.

She feels as though she might go insane from the close proximity. It is her own brand of torture; she would truly rather be experiencing physical pain. Physical pain she can do something about. It is the emotional pain, the pain that makes her want to scream and cry and throw things and tear her hair out, that she cannot deal with. She doesn't know what this is, why it renders her nearly unable to function. She has never experienced anything similar to it. She imagines that this is what the Cruciatus Curse feels like- to be in such unbearable, excruciating pain that she cannot do anything except scream and scream and writhe. Her body does not know what to do with itself; she shifts in her seat, her muscles clenching and unclenching, restlessness overtaking her. She bites her lip, hard; the coppery taste of blood flows onto her tongue, and she focuses on it. It gives her something to concentrate on, something other than the man sitting next to her, as she traces the gilded edges of Mad-Eye's hip flask with her gaze.

"Nymphadora..."

She starts, nearly looking round at him. But no- she must have imagined it. It was barely audible, after all, and Merlin knows how much she wants to hear his voice.

"Nymphadora."

She stiffens, still staring at the flask, giving no other sign that she has heard the slightly hoarse whisper. She traces the snout of the bear decorating the top, willing herself not to respond.

"Nymphadora?" It's louder this time, almost a normal, conversational tone.

She squeezes her eyes shut, trying to ignore the urge to answer him.

"Nymphadora, I know you can hear me." He is speaking above a normal volume now, and she shakes her head as though warding off an irksome fly.

"Damn it, Nymphadora, answer me!" His voice has risen to a shout.

She flinches and turns to faces Remus, whose visage is less than an inch from her own. The room, previously buzzing with activity, has become deathly quiet, and every face is turned toward them. Tonks feels her cheeks burning and spins away from Remus, hiding behind the curtain of her hair. The silence stretches on, tense and heavy. Tonks can feel eyes boring into her; she peers through her hair to find Charlie Weasley watching her, expression pained. Confused, she looks away, staring down at Mad-Eye's hip flask once more. She wishes someone would break the silence, someone would say something, _anything_, to take people's attention away from her-

"I apologize for my late arrival," a voice says from the front of the room. "Perhaps we can begin the meeting?"

She looks gratefully into the penetrating blue eyes of Albus Dumbledore, and she flashes him a small smile as everyone turns forward once more. Sinking down in her chair, Tonks rests her head against the wall.

Why had he tried to talk to her? It has been two weeks since they've had any contact. She closes her eyes again, half listening to Snape give his report on Voldemort's activity. If she misses anything important, Hestia or Charlie can fill her in later. Snape is droning on about the details of a recent attack on a group of Muggles, and Tonks feels herself zoning out. She doubts that any of what Snape says is truly relevant; Dumbledore will recap details that they need to pay particular attention to. Bored, she opens her eyes again, letting her gaze wander about the room. Snape is at the front, his greasy black hair hanging in curtains around his face; he prowls in the small space between the door and the front row of chairs, looking like an overgrown bat as usual. Dumbledore leans against the door, watching Snape with rapt attention. He is wearing spangled purple robes under his traveling cloak, and he has tucked one hand into the pocket of these. Her gaze shifts to her left, a few rows ahead of her. Hestia and Charlie are sitting side by side, Charlie performing his famous Severus Snape impression, Hestia stifling her laughter into her hands. Tonks feels a twinge of annoyance that they hadn't saved her a seat, but quickly stifles it. She never told them she was attending; they probably thought she was "busy" tonight, as she had been for the last two meetings Remus had gone to.

Remus. Her eyes unwillingly travel to him. His light brown hair has a few new gray strands, and he has dark circles under his eyes; has he not been sleeping? His threadbare blue jumper is patched at the elbows, and the hem of his jeans are tearing. There is a light shadow on his jaw; he obviously hadn't had the time to shave this morning. Rather than considering his appearance scruffy and unpolished, Tonks finds it endearing.

Snape has stopped speaking now, and Dumbledore is calling the room to order.

"As Severus explained," Dumbledore says, surveying them all over the rims of his half-moon spectacles," Voldemort is planning to build an army of werewolves, rallying them around Fenrir Greyback." Here, he pauses, waiting for the outbreak of murmuring to subside. It seems Tonks was not the only one to tune out Snape's lecture. "We, obviously, do not want werewolves, as is the case with anyone, allied with the Death Eaters. We are going to need every werewolf who can be convinced of the opposite of what Greyback preaches, every werewolf interested in living a normal life. Therefore, in an attempt to convince some of them to join our cause, Remus has kindly consented to run with Greyback's pack."

There are gasps and murmurs of concern and shock through out the room.

"NO!" Everyone turns to look at Tonks once more; she doesn't remember standing, but finds herself on her feet. She stares at Dumbledore with wide eyes, unwilling to believe he could actually suggest this.

"Nymphadora?" Dumbledore asks politely.

"You can't send him there!" She cries, glancing at Remus. He returns her gaze, expression unreadable. "Don't you know what Greyback's like? He's savage! He could get killed!"

"Nymphadora, I assure you that Remus will be perfectly safe." His calm demeanor only infuriates her more.

"You don't know that! You-"

"Tonks, this is war," Snape sneers. "Things have to be done."

"Shut the blood hell up, Snape," Tonks snaps. "You go out there into hell and risk your life and _then_ you can talk."

His lip curls. "I risk my life every day, you silly girl."

She laughs humorlessly. "Oh, yes, how _silly_ of me. I forgot. You cavort with Death Eaters. It's just so convenient you sit in Voldemort's pocket, isn't it?"

Snape's hand goes toward his wand, and she reaches for her own. Remus seizes her wrist.

"Nymphadora, stop," he hisses. "Sit down."

She wrenches her arm out of his grasp. She sees Hestia and Charlie shooting her warning looks, but she ignores them.

"You've never made a sacrifice in your miserable life, have you?" She shouts at Snape. "You let other people go out and risk everything while you sit and _snivel_ behind the two most powerful wizards in the world, saving your own neck- you're a _coward_-"

"Enough." Dumbledore puts his hand on Snape's shoulder, restraining him. "Nymphadora, I appreciate you concern, but please do not suggest that I'm throwing Remus into a needlessly dangerous situation." He looks down his nose at her sternly, and she stares back at him, fuming. "Please sit down so we can finish the meeting."

She does not do so, but continues glaring at him while he turns to talk quietly to Snape. She feels a tugging on her sleeve and glances down at Remus.

"_What?"_

"Please calm down," he implores, pulling her down into her chair. "I know you're upset, but let's just get through the meeting and then we'll talk."

She narrows her eyes, tucking her hair behind her ear. "And what if I don't want to talk to you?"

"Then that's too bad," he says firmly. "We need to talk." When she sticks out her chin mulishly, he sighs. "Please, Nymphadora?"

"Fine. And don't call me that."

As she turns to back to face front, she misses his smirk.

"That's my girl."

"What?" She says sharply.

"I- nothing."

After the meeting, she grudgingly follows Remus out into the yard and away from the prying eyes of others.

"What do you want?" she asks irritably.

"I- why is your hair different?"

She snorts. "I can't Morph."

"What? _Why?_"

"Probably because I'm depressed."

Guilt fades into his expression. "Nymphadora..."

She waves him off. "Whatever. Don't feed me your lies again, Remus."

"They're not lies!" He protests.

"Uh-huh. Right."

"Stop that."

"No."

"It's the truth whether you like it or not."

"Of course I don't bloody like it, Remus! And now you're about to go off and live with Death Eaters and _you could die!_ You have a very good chance of dying, Remus, don't tell me you don't. Have you thought about this at _all_?"

"Of course I have. I'm very cautious-"

"That's the understatement of the century."

He frowns at her. "I wouldn't blindly jump into a mission; I'm not Sirius."

She flinches. "I know you're not."

"Look, Nymphadora, it's not something I want to do. But no one else can and it has to be done." Seeing she is about to protest, he holds out a hand to stop her. "This is war. If you're going to fight you can't pick and choose your battles. You fight when you need to and you listen to the commanding general- or, in our case, Dumbledore. If it's a cause that you believe in, you'll do what ever it takes. I'm deeply invested in this war, Nymphadora. _It took my best friends away from me."_

She bites her lip and stares at the ground; the grass is browning due to drought. "But... what if it takes you away from me?" She is embarrassed to find her eyes filling with tears.

"Oh, Dora." He cups her cheek and lifts her chin so he can see her face. "I'm not going to die," he assures her. "Greyback is the werewolf who bit me. He's going to try his hardest to get me on his side."

"When do you leave?" Her voice is barely audible.

"Tomorrow."

A tear slips down her cheek. "I'm going to miss you."

He enfolds her in his arms and she buries her face in his chest. "As I am you." It is silent for a few moments, and a wind rustles their hair. "Dora, I- I don't know when I'm going to see you again, so... I want you to know that even though we can't be together the way you want to, I- I really care about you. You're an amazing woman and one day you're going to find a man who's worthy of you."

"I don't want anyone else!" She cries, pulling away from him.

"Not yet, you don't," he says softly with a wry smile. "Goodbye, Dora." He kisses her gently on the forehead and releases her, taking a few steps backward.

"_Remus!"_

He Disapparates, and the resounding _crack_ could be her heart breaking once more. She collapses onto the ground, her chest heaving as she sobs. She curls her fingers into the ground, her nails biting into the hot earth as she tries to relieve the pain, her body convulsing as raw emotion floods her mind, rendering her incapable of thought.

_Goodbye, Dora..._

She does not want to say goodbye.

It is a mark of her current emotional state that she does not hear two people approaching until one of them kneels beside her and enfolds her in his arms, pulling her against his chest and smoothing her hair away from her face. A pair of smaller hands wrap around her waist, and out of the corner of her eye, Tonks sees a flash of long, dark hair.

_Thank Merlin for Hestia and Charlie_, she thinks to herself.

"Do you want me to take you home?"

"I can't face my parents like this."

"Do you want me to take you to Hestia's?"

"On duty."

Charlie frowns and scratches his head. "Hm..."

"I'll just go to the Leaky Cauldron," Tonks mutters, picking herself of the ground.

"I really don't think you should be alone, Tonks."

"I'm not five, Charlie! I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

"Oh, really?" Charlie asks, also getting to his feet.

"Really! I'm _fine_."

"Yeah? Because you didn't look fine to me, Tonks."

She glares at him fiercely, ready to explode at him and tell him just how wrong he is, but she can't. Her shoulders slump in defeat.

Charlie wraps his big arm around her and leads her back to the house. "Why don't you have a cup of tea with Mum. She'll be up til Dad gets home, which won't be for a half an hour at least. I've got to get back to Romania, but Mum's good at listening..."

Charlie raps on the door with his his knuckles. There is the sound of footsteps and a wary voice Tonks recognizes as Molly's answers.

"Who is it?"

"It's Charlie, Mum."

"Oh, goodness! I thought you'd already gone back to the dragons." They hear Molly unlatching the door, but Charlie seizes the handle.

"Mum! You've got to ask the question."

"Oh, yes, of course, dear. What did you wear to bed up until you were sixteen?"

Charlie colors. "The footsie pajamas with Babbity Rabbity on them."

Tonks giggles in spite of herself. "You _wore_ those?"

"Open the door, Mum!" Charlie snaps, releasing the handle.

Molly flings the door open, beaming at her son. "Charlie, dear-" She stops, seeing Tonks' disheveled appearance. "Tonks, dear! What on earth-?" Understanding floods her face. "Oh, you poor dear." She folds Tonks in a hug that the younger woman returns awkwardly. She'd never got the impression that Molly is particularly fond of her.

"I've got to get back, Mum, so could you look after Tonks for awhile? Make her a cup of tea?" Charlie asks, ushering his friend into a chair.

"Of course, dear," Molly says, already bustling over to the cabinets and taking out a mug. "It was lovely to see you, Charlie. Come visit dear old mum and dad, do you hear me? They're not feeding you enough over in Romania; you're so peaky."

Charlie rolls his eyes but embraces his mother warmly. "Alright, Mum. I'll be back in England in a fortnight to pick up a new specimen from the Americans, so I'll try to stop by. 'Night, Tonks." He kisses the top of her head. "Look after yourself, and be sure to write me."

Tonks nods slowly, not going to bother promising. Charlie knows that in this state, the chances of her writing to, let alone talking to, anyone are few and far between. She's not one to socialize when upset. Molly follows Charlie to the door, locking it as he Disapparates. She returns to the counter, waving her wand at the cupboards so that the mug, a small pitcher of cream, and sugar float to the table.

"There you are, Tonks," Molly says warmly, taking the seat across from her. "Is there anything else you'd like?"

Tonks shakes her head, spooning a little sugar into her tea. Molly pats the back of her hand.

"This must have come as a terrible shock to you," the older woman says sympathetically. "I can't imagine how I would feel if I was told last minute that Arthur was going on a dangerous mission!"

"'S different." Tonks mutters.

"Well, now, of course you and Remus aren't married, but- the feelings are there. After all, marriage just makes it official. You don't have to be married to be in love!"

Tonks snorted into her tea.

"I beg your pardon?" Molly says, eyebrows raised.

"He doesn't love me."

Molly appears taken aback. "Of course he does!"

"Ha, ha."

"Has he- has he never told you how he feels?"

"He's made it very clear that he doesn't reciprocate my feelings, Molly."

"Now, dear, he's very self-conscious; you must have just read into something he said-"

"No! I know he doesn't love me, I know he doesn't care, I know I'll spend the rest of my life pining over him like a pathetic school girl." And in spite of herself, Tonks tells Molly everything, from when Tonks first realized she was in love with him to the constant rebuttals to the kiss in the Leaky Cauldron to her inability to Morph. Molly sits in silence until she is finished, and tactfully looks towards the Weasley clock, which is perched on a basket of laundry, so that Tonks can wipe her eyes on the corner of her cloak.

"Arthur should have been home over half an hour ago," she mutters, before turning to Tonks. "Dear, I'm so sorry he's being such a... well, do excuse my language, but he's being a right foul git!"

Tonks cracks a grin. It takes a lot for Molly to resort to phrases such as "right foul git."

"Remus is a wonderful man. He's kind, considerate, intelligent, chivalrous... everything a woman could want in a man, really. I think his calm demeanor will balance out with your, er, wilder side quite nicely. The problem is he can't even get out of his own way, dear. He loves you very much, but he's not used to loving anyone as much as he loves you."

"He doesn't love me!" Tonks snaps, frustration welling within her due to Molly's inability to see it. "You- you don't treat people you love like that. You don't just cast them aside like they're disposable. I know who he loves, Molly," she says in a strangled voice. "He loves Harry. He loves Sirius, and James, and Lily, and some girls named Selena and Mary and Marlene, because they'll never be fully gone from him even though they're dead. He loves with his whole heart, Molly, but he _doesn't_ love me."

Molly smiles sadly and takes Tonks' hands in her own. "But he does, dear. He _does_. I can see it, plain as day, just from the way he looks at you. You're the center of his world, even if he'll never admit it- he doesn't have much to live for, does he?- but he has _you_, and when everything and everyone else has been taken from him, you're what will bring him home alive from Greyback's path in the end. You're the best thing that could have happened to him. I truly believe that. Do you think for a moment he would have kept living once Sirius fell through that veil, if he didn't have someone to live for? James and Sirius, and Lily, and whoever else, they were all he had; but he still has, don't you see? When you love someone with all your heart you'll do whatever it takes to come back to them, especially in a war, because it means being able to keep them safe for a moment longer." Tears are flowing freely from Tonks' eyes now, and she ducks her head to hide them. "You can't give up on him, dear. No matter what. He'll come around, I promise you. Is it alright if I tell Arthur? He's the closest to Remus these days, besides you; he might be able to talk some sense it to him."

"If Sirius wasn't, I doubt Arthur will be able to... but go ahead and try," Tonks relents.

Both women jump as three, loud raps on the door interrupt their conversation. Molly leaps up from the table, and, drawing her wand, hurries to the back door.

"Who's there? Declare yourself!" Tonks puts a hand to her pocket, gripping her wand tightly; it is an odd time of night for someone to be calling.

A calm voice answers from behind the door. "It is I, Dumbledore, bringing Harry."

Molly throws open the door with relief, exclaiming, "Harry, dear! Gracious, Albus, you gave me a fright, you said not to expect you before morning!" Tonks releases her wand and hastily takes a sip of tea to calm herself.

Dumbledore's unexpected appearance has brought her fury with him back to the surface, and she clenches both hands around her mug to stop them from shaking. She_ hates_ this. She doesn't hate him, of course. She just hates that he doesn't take other people's well-being into account. First locking Sirius up in that god-forsaken house until he was nearly mad, supposedly for his own safety- but didn't he realize what that would _do_ to him? It drove him nearly mad, to the point where he got himself killed because he couldn't stand staying behind for one more minute. Now, he sends Remus off to live with werewolves who are almost undoubtedly all savage and cruel, under the influence of Greyback. It could destroy him, being with those other people. He already thinks he is a monster; what will become of him if he spends large amounts of time under the influence of those who _are_?

"-I had expected. Harry's doing, of course. Ah, hello, Nymphadora!"

Tonks grimaces as Dumbledore notices her. She has to acknowledge his presence, pretend she doesn't want to see how well his frail old limbs would take to an experiment in Muggle dueling... she shakes her head to rid herself of those particular thoughts.

"Hello, Professor," she mutters, forcing a smile. "Wotcher, Harry. I'd better be off. Thanks for the tea and sympathy, Molly."

"Please don't leave on my account! I cannot stay, I have urgent matters to discuss with Rufus Scrimgeour."

Tonks breaths sharply through her nose. _Only a minute,_ she thinks reassuringly to herself._ Say goodbye, pretend you're okay, and then you won't have to talk to him or see him again until the next Order meeting..._

"No, no, I've got to get going. 'Night." She ignores Dumbledore's scrutiny and Harry's curiosity as she refuses Molly's invitation to lunch with Remus and Mad-Eye for the next day, and hurries out into the yard.

Spinning on the spot, she concentrates with all her might.

_Hestia's... Hestia's... Hestia's..._

She materializes in front of the quaint cottage where her friend lives and knocks feebly on the door. "Hess, it's me," she calls.

When Hestia lets her inside the house and leads her into the small foyer, the tears begin again.

_How much longer can I keep this up?_ She thinks miserably.

Author's Note: _I like this chapter. For those of you who don't know who Selena is, she's an OC of mine from _Misguided Ghosts_. She was one of Lily's best friends and dated Sirius for a while- if you want to learn more about her and how she died., you can read that fic. _:) _Please review, guys. I only got one for the last chapter, and I got lots of story alerts and favorites (which are awesome, don't get me wrong), but I need to know what I can do better!_


	4. Make New Friends, but Keep the Old?

_**Author's Note: **Uh... Hi. Remember me? I am SO sorry that it's been so long since I've updated; I don't know where the time went! It seems as though it was only a week or so ago that I had last posted a chapter, because I've been so busy. I've had no downtime! I had the winter musical, then the state drama festival competition, then the Competitive Class Plays (the first show I've acted in in a year, I'm usually backstage, but it was so much fun!), plus things for the select choir at my school in between, as well as SATs and college recommendations and school in general. The bigger problem, though, was it's really hard to write an angsty fic like this when you're really happy (I blame my ex/ best friend; when you're in love it's hard not to be happy). It wasn't until he broke up with me recently that I started furiously rewriting the drafts of chapters I'd started months ago and actually came up with something I was proud of. The good news for the long wait is that this is an especially long chapter, the product of many nights where I didn't want to try to sleep because it would mean letting my thoughts catch up with me. Haha, I sound so pathetic right now! I s'pose I know how Tonks feels, now, though. Anyways, even though I'm feeling more happy right now (we're unofficially back together! (and no, I'm not one of those girls whose happiness is dictated by having a boyfriend; he's simply my other half)) school's almost out for the year and I promise I will have at least bi-weekly updates if not more. _

_Thank you so much to everyone who's reviewed or added me to their Story Alerts; this one goes out to you._

_Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling, as much as I'd like to be; if I was, I wouldn't be writing fanfic or silly author's notes about my love life, now, would I?_

_._oO0Oo..oO0Oo..oO0Oo.

A loud crack echoes through the forest and the man, who has appeared in the shadow of a tree as though from thin air, peers at the ground. He searches for a few minutes, his eyes darting nervously around him. They light upon something- a lone, well-worn and ripped trainer lying on the dirt a distance away. He creeps forward and, bending close to the ground, takes a deep breath. He can smell dirt and pine, a musky scent that is coming from the den of what is presumably an animal nearby, and there- a hint of what he is looking for. He crawls forward on hands and knees, following the sinister scent as it grows stronger. Brushing aside a pile of dead leaves, he rears back, the stench flooding his nostrils. Feeling nauseated, he stares for another moment at the stain of blood on the earth before rising to his feet. The leaves and dirt in front of him have been disturbed, as though something has been dragged further into the forest. Forcing himself to stay calm, he follows the disturbance, trying not to notice the occasional splatters of blood along the trees.

The musky scent becomes thicker as he delves deeper into the trees, now mixing with human sweat and dirty clothing. He can glimpse fires ahead and hear raucous laughter when he is seized from behind.

"Goin' soomwhe'?" a raspy, female voice says in his ear. His captor forces his head backward by his hair, exposing his throat.

"N-no," he manages, breathing hard through his nose and silently cursing himself for not being more cautious. The woman twists his shoulder back, and there is a small _pop_ as it snaps out of place. It is all he can do not to cry out in pain.

"Strong, arnna ye?" She whispers in his ear. "Ye jus' migh' prove yerself useful ye'." She forces him forward, putting the tip of her wand to his temple. She marches him into the clearing, and he can hear the conversation stop. Unable to see anything other the leafy canopy above them, he is unsure how many others there are. He feels heat towards his left side as he is pushed past the fire, and then his captor shoves him, hard to the ground. The laughter starts again as he sees two heavy black boots stop in front of him.

"Well, well, Cat," the owner of the boots says. "What've we got here?"

""Found him lurkin' aboot, Fenrir," his captor says, her raspy voice proud. "Was able t' sneak up on 'im. I reckon he'll be a good addition t' the pack. Didna scream when I tested 'im like they usually do."

"Well, that's... interesting," Fenrir says, the black books shifting. One of them swings forward and kicks him, hard in the gut. He curls into the fetal position refusing to allow a whimper to escape his lips. More laughter. "Too god to react to pain?" Fenrir jeers, and the boots move out of sight. A sudden pressure on his dislocated shoulder as Fenrir steps on it, and he bites down on his tongue to keep from shouting. The metallic taste of copper floods his mouth and he spits blood out at Fenrir's feet. "Well, well. I reckon Cat was right about you. Who wants to do it at the full moon?"

There is silence. The crackling of the flames seems oddly magnified.

"No one?" Fenrir says softly. "What about you, Thomas?"

"I think I'm too new," a deep voice says. "Might botch it."

"Morgana?" There is a squeak of fright and Fenrir chuckles. "I suppose I'd better do it. What's your name, eh?" Fenrir puts the toe of his boot under him and kicks him over onto his back. Fenrir's dirty, scarred face shows surprise for a moment before his cracked lips split into a grin. "Well, well well. Remus Lupin."

"Greyback." Remus glares up into the face that had haunted his dreams as a child.

"Finally given up on _normal _society, Lupin? Finally realized that _normal _people won't accept you? Finally realized that under this government, you can't live a _normal _life?"

The clearing is silent as Remus continues to glare at Greyback. Greyback laughs quietly. "Get up, Lupin." Remus remains on the ground, refusing to take orders from him. Fenrir's eyes narrow. "I said, GET UP!" He grabs Remus's collar and drags him off the ground.

"First things first, Lupin. This is _my _pack. You take orders from me. If I tell you to do something, you do it. Understand?" He throws Remus from him, and Cat catches Remus just before he hits the ground. "Lupin here thinks he's better than us. He thinks he's better because he didn't shun other wizards, but tried to live them. He attended Hogwarts School, became _prefect,_graduated. He tried to get a job. How'd that work out for you, Lupin?"

Remus scowls, hating Greyback and this mission and Dumbledore.

"You are not better than us, Lupin. We were the smart ones. We banded together, as all wolves should. We are strong. We will be victorious when the Dark Lord defeats Harry Potter, and we can revenge ourselves on the people who have made us outcasts!" Greyback's voice has risen to a shout.

Remus takes advantage of the other man's occupation with his rant to examine the dimly lit audience to his humiliation. Besides Greyback and Cat, there are seven people sitting around the flames. On the other side, through the flickering of the fire, Remus can see significantly smaller people huddled together. Children, he realizes with a pang. Three children whose chances at a happy, normal childhood have been stripped from them as his had been so many years ago. The larger of the three is sitting slightly in front of the others, as though trying to put himself between his companions and Greyback.

A blow to the side of his face catches Remus by surprise, knocking him to the ground. Greyback's cruel, unhinged laughter rings through the clearing, soon joined by Cat's hoarse chuckle and a deep rumble from the man who had punched Remus.

"This is Nathan Crowley, Lupin. He's going to show you what happens to people who don't respect my command. First lesson: when I am speaking, your eyes are on me. Basic respect. Surely they taught you that at your precious school?" He chuckles darkly and motions toward Nathan. "Alright, Crowley. Go ahead."

Nathan steps out of the shadows and his face is thrown into sharp relief against the orange glow of the fire. His nose has been broken several times and he has a cruel, calculating look in his eyes. He's shorter than Remus, but much stockier. As he leaps at Remus with a feral growl, Remus braces himself, but nothing prepares hims for the knee to his stomach that knocks the wind out of him. Nathan's fist flies towards his head, and Remus sees Tonks' face in his mind's eye.

_I'm sorry, Dora. This is why I'm not good enough for you._

_._oO0Oo..oO0Oo..oO0Oo.

"Morning, Dory!"

Tonks swears under her breath as Rebecca pops her head over the barrier between their cubicles. "Wotcher," she says warily.

"Lovely day!" Rebecca says brightly. "Did you see the sun coming in through the windows? It's just ever so cheerful!"

"Bloody cheerful, I bet," Tonks mutters sarcastically.

Rebecca pouts. "Come now, Dory! Don't be such a spoilsport."

"Are you done yet? I've got loads of parchment to sort through."

"I was supposed to tell you that Fletcher wants us in her office," Rebecca informs her, returning to her nauseatingly energetic state.

"What for?"

"I believe we're getting an assignment!" Rebecca chirps happily as they set off down the rows of cubicles. "Can you believe it? Our first assignment together! And I'm not even a year in! I do hope it's something exciting-"

Tonks tunes the girl out. Exciting indeed. Rebecca had qualified the year after Tonks, and despite her flighty, bubbly, and slightly abrasive personality, she is very intelligent and means well. Fletcher usually avoids putting the girl on difficult assignments because she is a bit too eager and tends to make simple mistakes in battle. She is popular among the men in the office due to her looks- she is average height and curvy with a very pretty face, big blue eyes, and waist length curly brown hair.

"-on his last mission, Paul told me! Paul's _so _fanciable, isn't he? He's so good-looking. And he's so nice, and he's so mysterious, what with that strong and silent thing he's got going for him."

Tonks rolls her eyes and raps smartly on a large oak door with a gold plaque that reads:

_Siobhan Fletcher  
Head of the Auror Department_

"Come in."

Rebecca follows Tonks into Fletcher's office and they sit down in the hard-backed chairs opposite her desk. Fletcher glances up at them, her good eye flickering between them.

"Tonks, Proudfoot," she says in her gruff voice. "We're just waiting on Palmer."

They nod, and since Siobhan Fletcher is not one for idle conversation, they wait in silence.

Observing her superior across the heavy desk, Tonks recalls a conversation she'd had with Kingsley when Fletcher had been named Scrimgeour's successor.

_._oO0Oo..oO0Oo..oO0Oo.

_"She's probably one of the best choices," Tonks had said quietly as they watched Scrimgeour moving his belongings out of the office. "She's tough. Doesn't allow any nonsense. And she takes the Death Eaters seriously."_

_ "You're right about that," Kingsley agreed in his deep voice. "When I first qualified, she was a right laugh most of the time. Always cracking a joke. Right after Voldemort fell, though, she and her fianc__é__, also an Auror, were on an assignment tracking some loose Death Eaters. Her fianc__é__ was murdered and she barely made it out- that's how she lost her eye. She hasn't been the same since."_

_._oO0Oo..oO0Oo..oO0Oo.

A bang as the door bursts open breaks Tonks from her reverie.

"Sorry I'm late," Nick Palmer says, grinning in a way that suggest he's not at all sorry. "There was a bit of traffic on the lifts."

He settles himself into the chair beside Rebecca and looks at Fletcher expectantly. Fletcher puts her quill down and rubs at her eye-patch absentmindedly.

"As you've all probably guessed, I've got an assignment for you. It's not an easy one, and it's dangerous. You will be in enemy territory, and there is a very real possibility of injury. I'm giving you an out. You're younger than some of the others going on this mission, but I think you will all be valuable assets. In any case, I will allow you to opt out of this assignment. We have plenty of paperwork that needs to be done." She surveys them seriously. "Speak now or forever hold you peace."

"I'll go," Tonks says immediately. Enemy territory means followers of Voldemort. No way in hell would she willingly do paperwork when she could be out fighting Death Eaters. She's not fussed, really, if she gets hurt. It's all for the greater good, and Remus isn't here to stop her hurrying in to things without thinking. She hears Rebecca and Nick agree and tunes in to Fletcher to listen to the details of the assignment.

"Excellent. As you know, we've had Dawlish and Patterson attempting to locate the whereabouts of Fenrir Greyback."

Tonks froze._ Oh, no. Please, no._

"They've been unsuccessful up until about a week ago- when they trace a mysterious Muggle hiking disappearance to Greyback and his band of werewolves. We've located they place they are currently camping out, and have gotten a rough number of how many there are. We believe there are ten of them, including three children. The assignment is for ten of you to arrest Greyback and his followers, and to bring back the children so we can find the best solution for them. You will leave in two days' time, on Wednesday morning. We will have a meeting tomorrow so Dawlish and Patterson can brief you." She regards them calmly, though the faint crease of her mouth betrays her worry. "Be careful. Follow your instructions. Merlin knows we can't afford to lose anyone because of stupidity." She sighs and shuffles a stack of paperwork on her desk. "You may go."

Rebecca and Nick rise immediately and exit the office, flirting heavily as they go. Tonks remains frozen in her chair, shocked into immobility. A few minutes go by in which Tonks still sits in the chair and Fletcher continues going through her paperwork. Eventually, she glances up at Tonks.

"Tonks? Are you all right?" Her one eye studies Tonks concernedly.

"I..." Tonks's voice cracks, and she fights back tears. "I don't think I can do this assignment."

_Looks as though I'll be doing paperwork after all,_ she thinks bitterly.

Fletcher is taken aback. "Excuse me?"

"I can't go on this assignment, Fletcher." It kills her to say it. "I can't do it." 

"Why ever not?"

"I-" She stops. She cannot tell Siobhan Fletcher she's copping out of an assignment for personal reasons. Swallowing her pride, Tonks murmurs shamefacedly, "I'm too scared. I would high-tail it out of there."

Fletcher smiles ruefully. "Tonks, you're in the Order of the Phoenix. I'd expect that excuse from the others, not you. And need I remind you that you agreed to go when I'd barely gotten the words out of my mouth? You're not scared." She cocks her head to the side. "What's the real reason, Nymphadora?"

_Good-bye, Nymphadora._

Remus' face is clear in her memory. What if the Aurors hurt him and she never saw him again?

Her conversation with Kingsley pops into her head. She remembers what Kingsley said about Fletcher losing her fiancé in battle, and how she had felt responsible for that. Tonks suspects she still does.

_Good-bye, Nymphadora._

Fletcher looks at Tonks expectantly and Tonks feels her eyes fill with tears.

"There's this amazing man. Remus. Remus Lupin. I've known him only a year, but I feel as though I've known him my who life. We just connect, you know?" She brushes angrily at a tear that has escaped. "I... I fell in love with him. I love him so much it hurts sometimes. And despite that, he keeps saying we can't be together. It's always the same argument... 'Too old, too poor, too dangerous.' He's a werewolf, see. But I don't care, I don't _care_..." Tonks stares at the desk without really seeing it, watching Remus' countless rejections over in her mind. "He... he went to Greyback. He felt he had to, see, because-" She pauses. Though she trusts Fletcher, she knows she cannot give away the true reason that Remus has returned to Greyback's side. "-because he's trying to distance himself from me to protect me. Bloody noble prat. Anyways... I can't go on that assignment. I wouldn't be able to risk hurting him in the heat of the moment, if I'm aiming for someone else and I miss... I wouldn't be able to live with myself."

Another tear escapes and swipes at it impatiently, her gaze resting on her knees. Fletcher silently hands her a handkerchief; Tonks glances up and is startled to find that the other woman also has tears in her eye.

"Of course," Fletcher says kindly. "I'll find another assignment for you. You won't even have to do paperwork." Tonks reluctantly releases a watery laugh. "I'll let you know tomorrow, Nymphadora," she says, and Tonks goes to the door.

"It's Dora, or Tonks. Thanks, Fletcher."

"Don't mention it. Oh, and Dora?"

Tonks, already out in the corridor, pokes her head around the door frame. Fletcher smiles, understanding and compassion etched on her face.

"It's Siobhan."

_._oO0Oo..oO0Oo..oO0Oo.

Every part of him hurts.

As he slowly becomes more aware of himself and his surrounding, the less he wants to wake up: waking up means confronting the pain. He can hear the sounds of hushed voices, the crackling of a fire, and the steady drop of water onto stone. Keeping his eyes closed, Remus assesses the damage. His shoulder is in agony; it's still dislocated. Sharp pains as he breathes indicate broken ribs. Sore spots in various places on his body tell where he has bruises- the biggest, his right temple, where he is sure he as a lump. His ankle is swollen and throbbing from twisting it in a failed attempt to escape Nathan. His various injuries are enough that he resolves to simply lie there, unmoving, for as long as possible.

Taking shallow breaths so as not to disturb his ribs, he tunes in to the quiet murmurings of the voices he had heard upon first returning to consciousness.

"-been out for nearly a week, Thomas! What did you _do_?" a woman says anxiously.

"I did what I could. I'm no Healer, you know that. I'm keeping him under so he's not in any pain while he heals. He needs to get to someone who can actually do something for his injuries, and he wouldn't have been able to do that in his state. Hopefully when he wakes up he'll have healed enough that he can Apparate. And this way, Greyback left him alone," a voice, which Remus' assumes belongs to Thomas, says defensively.

"I know, but-"

"You know Greyback would've set Nathan on him the second he came to. By keeping him under, he won't have to face that until he comes back, hopefully fully healed, and can properly defend himself."

"Well, you'd better hope he comes to while Greyback and the others are out, then. Or this will have all been for nothing."

A sigh. "I thought he'd be awake by now. It's not much longer until dawn-"

"-Which means they'll be back soon."

"Yes."

A pause. "And then we're screwed."

"Yes."

Remus groans, realizing that he should probably bring it to the attention of these two people that he is, in fact, conscious. If what they say is true, he only possesses a small window of time in which to get away from Greyback and seek medical attention, and Merlin knows he needs that.

"You're awake!"

The woman who had spoken earlier comes into his line of sight, and Remus inhales sharply.

He drinks in the heart shaped face, the mousy brown hair, the warm brown eyes. He wonders if he is dreaming. He lifts a hand to her face and runs the pad of his thumb across her cheek.

"_Dora?_"

"My name is Taylor," the woman corrects gently, removing his hand from her face. She tilts her head to the side. "Who's Dora?"

Remus shuts his eyes as a wave of disappointment washes over him. How could he have been so stupid? Opening his eyes again, he can now see the differences that should have tipped him off immediately. The fuller upper lip, the cleft chin, the lack of mischievous sparkle in her eyes. He knows he has no right to, but he desperately wishes that Dora had been the first person he'd seen upon waking up. He's never wanted to see her more.

"No one," he croaks. "Sorry."

"That's alright," Taylor smiles. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I've been trampled by a hippogriff."

She pats his hand sympathetically. "Water?"

"Please."

"Thomas, can you come help him sit up?" Drawing her wand, Taylor conjures a goblet. "_Aguamenti."_

With Thomas's aid, Remus is able to sit up and downs several goblets full of water. Wiping his mouth on his sleeve, he surveys his surroundings. They appear to be in a cave; the dripping he had heard earlier comes from a crack in the ceiling where water is slowly trickling in.

"Where are we?"

"We had to move," Thomas explains. "Greyback got wind of a raid that the Aurors were sending in, so we had to change base. Greyback's taken the others out hunting, but they'll be back soon," he says, coming in to Remus's line of sight. Remus is taken aback for a moment; he recognizes the other man. Thomas had been in St. Mungo's at the same time as Arthur, in the Dai Llewellyn Ward.

"I'm surprised to see you here, Remus." Thomas smiles ruefully. "In St. Mungo's you seemed so sure that people like us could have a normal life."

"Things change," Remus says shortly, and Thomas, sensing that he won't get anything more out of him, drops the subject.

Thomas and Taylor, who keep sneaking anxious glances at the entrance of the cave, seem keen to get Remus out of harm's way.

"Do you think you can Apparate?" Taylor asks hesitantly. "You need to go to St. Mungo's.."

"I think I can, yes," he says, but he knows he will not be going to St. Mungo's. He cannot go to the Wizarding Hospital and explain how he got these injuries. "Help me stand?"

It takes a while to get Remus to his feet. Taylor and Thomas are wary of his injuries, and though they do their best to avoid jostling his ribs too much, he is white-faced by the time he is standing awkwardly on one leg.

"Thank you for your help," he says, bracing himself against the rough stone of the cave wall. "I appreciate it."

"Of course." Taylor smiles, and Remus is once again struck by her resemblance to Dora. "Get better, Remus."

Remus nods and pushes away from the wall, spinning on his good leg towards freedom.

.oO0Oo..oO0Oo..oO0Oo.

The day the attack on the werewolf hideout was to occur, Tonks finds herself unable to focus. She has been working on the same report of a Muggle attack for over an hour when a voice disrupts her distracted worrying.

"Report's giving you some trouble, eh?"

She looks up into the smiling face of Paul Savage.

"Just can't concentrate," she murmurs, running a hand wearily through her short hair.

Paul considers her quietly for a moment. "When's your lunch break?"

She checks her watch and laughs humorlessly. "Five minutes ago, actually. Never thought I'd see the day when I forgot to go to lunch." 

"Excellent," Paul says, snapping her manilla folder shut. "Come one, babe, I know a bloody good Italian place down the street."

"I'm not hungry," Tonks tells him, opening the folder again and staring down at the form.

_**Location**: Elephant and Castle_

_**Date**: August 7, 1996_

_**Aggressor**: Unknown. Witnesses have described two large men running from the scene, both wearing black and skeletal masks. (Believed to be Death Eaters.)_

_**Victim**: Mr. Brendan Perry, 72 years of age._

_**Injuries/ Damaged Sustained**: Visible bruises on the victim's body; Healers have confirmed these to be the result of the Cruciatus Curse. The victim was branded with the word "filth" across his chest, but no other injuries were detected. Mr. Perry's house was subsequently burned down._

_**Motive(s)**: Muggle baiting, amusement, scare tactics_

_**Sentence**: Pending trial. Three to five years in Azkaban._

_**Other notes**: Mr. Perry remains in St. Mungo's. He is currently being treated for shock and the brand on his chest through what he believes are Muggle means. Will be released upon declaration of full health. It is currently unclear whether he will require memory modif-_

"Come on, Tonks." Paul is no longer joking. "You need to eat something."

She sighs, staring at her hands. She knows Paul is right; she hasn't been eating properly since the battle in the Department of Mysteries, and even less since she opted out of the assignment. She knows she is losing weight; her parents have commented on this on a regular basis. Besides, her anxiety over the mission is preventing her from being productive. It might benefit her to get out of the office for a while.

"Alright," Tonks says reluctantly, returning her quill to the inkwell on her desk and standing up. "Lead the way."

Paul beams and links his arm through hers. "Come, dearest," he cries in a lofty voice. "The delicacies of a distant land await us!"

She smiles in spite of herself as he marches her towards the lifts. Paul's antics never fail to make her laugh, and really, today especially Merlin knows she could use a laugh and a distraction. They join the queue waiting for the lifts and Paul continues to joke around and act like a snooty pure blood.

Tonks is perfectly aware of what he's doing. She and Paul have been friends long enough for her to know that he is doing his best to distract her and cheer her up. While he has a wonderful sense of humour, he is not this silly unless he is _trying _to make her laugh.

When the lift's grille slides open to reveal the bustling mob of the Atrium, Paul grabs Tonks's hand and hurries through the crowd towards the visitor's entrance. If she looks anywhere but the owner of the hand in hers, she can almost pretend that Remus is the one leading her through the crowds. That it is Remus who has pulled her from her work. That it is Remus who is treating her to a lunch out at a nice restaurant in Muggle London. But, in an instant, that illusion is shattered as Paul comes to a halt beside the phone booth that will take them to Muggle London. He holds open the glass door and they step inside, watching the black-tiled Atrium disappear as they ascended.

The warm, sunny weather seemed to mock Tonks as her mind strayed again to the attack that was probably taking place that very minute. What if Remus was hurt? What if one of the Aurors thought they needed to use a spell that could legitimately harm him? Knowing Remus, he would do everything in his power to protect the three children in the group, and the Aurors might see him as a threat.

"You're thinking again."

"What?"

Paul's blue eyes survey her ruefully. "You're think about whatever is making you depressed."

"No, I-" her denial dies on her lips. She should know better than to try to convince Paul otherwise. He's very good at reading people- one of the qualities that makes him such a valuable Auror- and she's never been good at hiding her emotions. "Sorry."

"It's quite all right," he says, slinging an arm around her shoulders and continuing along the pavement. "I just hate seeing you unhappy, and the point of this is to get your mind off things."

"Thanks, Paul," she murmurs, managing a small smile.

"Anytime."

The restaurant is small and nicely decorated, and Tonks feels as though she has been transported to Italy itself. They are seated at a little round table in a corner by the window, and as Paul continues to crack jokes for her benefit and she drowns in the comfort of a plate of ravioli, she feels her heart heal just a little. Maybe this is exactly what she needs. Maybe she'll never be okay, or back to the way she was. But if she surrounds herself with people who can make her smile, like Paul, maybe she can learn to live again. Maybe she doesn't have to be alone anymore.

"Tonks! You made it!" Charlie shouts happily as Hestia leads her into the sitting room.

"Wotcher, Charlie. How are the dragons?"

"Fantastic." He sighs dreamily. "If it wasn't Hestia's birthday, I wouldn't have been able to tear myself away."

Tonks feels herself grinning; it seems as though it has been eons since she has used those muscles.

"I swear, Charlie, you're never going to find a girl you love more than your dragons," Tonks tells him, gratefully accepting the glass of wine Hestia offers her.

Charlie's ears turn red. "Ha... right."

"What's this? Charlie's got a secret crush?"

"Oh, leave him alone, Tonks," Hestia chides, her dark blue eyes sparkling with mirth. "Don't tease him if he's embarrassed to share!"

"You two are the worst," Charlie groans, burying his reddening face in his hands. "Why don't I hang around with more blokes?"

"'Cause you love us," Hestia laughs, brushing her hair out of her eyes. "Even if you don't love us quite as much as your dragons or this mystery girl."

Tonks pats Charlie on the head and winks. "Don't worry, love, your secret's safe with us."

Charlie glances at her, an odd expression on his face. "Thanks, I guess."

Hestia flicks her wand at the wireless, raising the volume as the first chords of the Weird Sisters' newest single play. "I'm going to go get some more wine," she calls over her shoulder as she dances into the kitchen.

Tonks throws herself onto the sofa next to Charlie, resting her head on his shoulder as she takes another sip from her glass.

"Feeling better, I see," Charlie says softly after a moment.

"Mm, I suppose."

"You suppose?"

"It's more like I've decided I've got to get on with my life. I'm no use to anyone if I'm moping all the time."

Charlie wraps an arm around her waist and pulls her closer. "So does that mean we've all got to work on distracting you?"

She laughs. "I guess so."

"Well then, I guess a dinner at our favorite place is in order. Tomorrow night, Martin's, eight o'clock. Table for two?"

Tonks turns her head to look at him, smiling. "That sounds perfect."

With a crack, Tonks appears on the pavement in front of her parents' house, stumbling a little from the effects of all the wine she consumed at Hestia's. Humming to herself, she makes her way across the garden towards the house, feeling happier than she has in quiet some time. Who knew all she needed was some quality time with her friends to distract her from Remus?

As she nears the house, she notices an odd shape on the steps, as though someone is sleeping there. Coming to a halt, she draws her wand and peers through the darkness. The person, whoever it is, does not seem to be stirring. She creeps closer, all of her senses on alert, her wand trained on the stranger. She is a foot away when she recognizes the badly bruised and bloodied face. Her heart stops.

"_Remus_?"


End file.
